


Sacrifice

by DanElliot



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanElliot/pseuds/DanElliot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things aren't worth sacrificing, no matter the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry. It's been a long time since I've played Dragon Age II but I just stumbled in something that broke my heart and gave me some ideas. Kinda of lots of spoilers ahead, but maybe you'll understand even if you haven't played the game. Well, this is based in Hawke sending Fenris back to Danarius in the quest "Alone". The next chapter will be longer, I promise. Thank you for reading!

The tales about the Champion of Kirkwall were almost countless, at least for Varric. The dwarf seemed to make up anything he could about the man. How he escaped Lothering, how he made his name on the underworld, but what the Inquisitor had expected to hear was how he betrayed one of his companions only because status or money. Varric had told her one day, when he was drunk enough not to care about his words, mourning his best friend, decided to tell all the stories he had got about Hawke and what he had done. All the glories and murders and fights, how he stood against Knight-Commander Meredith and the Arishok himself with courage and fury…

But then a different story came, something that made the Inquisitor nauseous and dizzy. She didn’t say a word as Varric told her of the day Hawke left an elf called Fenris all by himself, of how he had turn his back and sent him to his former master, a magister of Tevinter, betraying the elf in such a way that made her completely sick and nauseous. The dwarf mumbled something about ‘how sorry Hawke was later’ before falling asleep over the table, but Trevelyan barely heard it. How could someone do such a terrible thing to other, to someone that had trusted him and fought by his side? Handing a person to a slaver…

Somehow, knowing what he had done made her less sad for leaving him in the Fade. It was a horrible thought, she knew. But not as cruel as Hawke had done to a poor soul like Fenris.

For some days she couldn’t think about anything else, a picture of a hurt, betrayed elf being taken away invading her mind before she could help it, flinching at the thought every time. That was consuming her just like the Anchor in its first days. Maybe the elf was already dead, maybe she shouldn’t care so much but she _needed_ to know. She wouldn’t rest until she knew. Fortunately, Leliana didn’t ask much for reasons. She just needed to know what had happened. She needed the truth.

It took long weeks, almost a whole month but Leliana’s nightingales finally came back from Tevinter, bringing not only a complete report about Fenris but terrible news about a war against the Inquisition being whispered here and there among the magisters, a dangerous idea that was growing stronger every passing day. The blow against Corypheus in Adamant weakened her forces as well, at least for a while. If the Imperium decided to strike…

But they wouldn’t, not now. Those were simply rumors, but the informations about Fenris weren’t, and she read every single word for hours, and every page made her more and more sick. She couldn’t believe how she had missed what was really happening on the Imperium all that time, but there was nothing she could really do. The Inquisition wasn’t so strong as she wished it was. Orlais and the events at the Winter Palace had been carefully calculated for a long time. She had nothing but some rumors to even try to stand up against Tevinter.

And there was Corypheus, that damned immortal magister breathing at her neck every moment she let her guard down. There was so many things to deal with, so many people counting on her to lead them through the right path, following her blindly through darkness… It was overwhelming. Her Inner Circle helped as they could, trying to make her feel better, but she always felt alone. Completely, utterly alone. They couldn’t understand how tired she was. A deep sigh escaped her lips, body relaxed against the chair as she dropped the letters and reports on her desk.

At least he was alive. Leto. That was his name before the ritual that marked his body with pure lyrium and wiped his memories, and he had no friends or family anymore. Maybe the only friend he had ever had was Hawke, that fucking traitor. A letter directed to the Champion of Kirkwall was among the others she had, and a flicker of flame escaped her fingers and destroyed it after she read the last lines, anger burning inside her like fire.

How could someone be so despicable, so _disgusting_? How could she have trusted someone like Hawke?

“And I’d thought the Imperium couldn’t get any worse. Declaring war against the Inquisition herself, can you believe it!” She hadn’t noticed when Dorian came in, but he was there, standing near her with a curious expression. “You have a lovely idea in your mind that will kill us both, don’t you?”

“If the rumors are right...”

“Only rumors.”

“I didn’t expect it either, but Leliana has reliable ears everywhere, even in Tevinter. If she says magisters are planning a war, we need to be prepared. If Radonis allow it...”

“He’s a man with peculiar habits. If he’s convinced, I’m afraid they’ll have power enough to go on with this suicidal plan.”

“Exactly what we needed in this moment. _Perfect_.”

An exasperated sigh escaped as she rubbed her face, completely lost once more. If they had something, anything… Orlais and Ferelden could provide her enough support, but with the mage rebellion knocking at their doors, only Maker knew what could happen. She didn’t want a war, not in that moment when they should be together facing a common enemy. Maybe the Imperium was simply waiting for that. Corypheus was still a magister, after all.

“Dorian, I need you.”

“And the day is still young!” She finally found mood enough to laugh gently as the mage approached her desk enough to grab the letters she had left. “I can see you’re not only interested about a probably not upcoming war.”

“This is more like a personal relief. Varric told me an interesting story about Hawke and his ‘betraying friends’ hobby.”

“And why does it bother you so much? He’s dead, rotting in the Fade - and I imagine you’re enjoying it, now you know the Champion’s little secrets. You can’t expect to save every person Hawke had betrayed before.”

“I know. But if I can save this one, I’ll be happy enough.”

“For how long until you find something else and say the same thing? Marian, dear.” She knew he was right, Dorian always was but she couldn’t drop that as if it was nothing. His grip was firm in her shoulder, yet gentle as usual. “Just stop thinking about it and listen to me. This is suicide. There’s no point in throwing your life away, everything you’ve built here for some stupid thing Hawke had done Maker knows how many years ago. It’s not your job to clean his mess.”

“Well, Corypheus is very alive to me.” Dorian’s lips turned into a thin line under his mustache, and she knew she had won that discussion. “You’re the one saying you wanted to change things in Tevinter. That’s your chance. If we make Radonis see, maybe the Black Divine...”

“And we’ll do it walking right into a trap! A perfect end for the Inquisition, don’t you think?” The mage shook his head, but it was too late. “Why do I even tell you what I’m planning? You’ll always end up using it against me. What a cruel woman you are, Inquisitor. Very well, let’s get started. We need to plan our suicide, we can even die together in a romantic way.”

“You know how much I love you.”

“Keep saying that. Maker knows how I need it.”


	2. Magisters

The whispers and gossip were becoming too loud and too often for him to ignore. For some reason, everyone seemed to be excited about something called “Inquisition”, of how they were doing wonderful things and how a woman - a mage - was becoming quite the most powerful leader of Thedas. A disgusted noise escaped him before he could hold it back, but no one noticed it, more interested in the Archon's speech. Fenris couldn't  understand why he was there, a mere slave among magisters and the Black Divine himself, but he wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable or out of place. He had seen other slaves, standing quietly near their masters or offering drinks here and there, but their faces showed his same confusion.

The magisters weren’t comfortable as well - some of them clearly didn’t want to be there, but they had no other choice. Fenris had heard the Archon had called them for that “meeting”, and no one was mad enough to ignore Radonis’ orders. It was strange. He had seen other meetings before, but this one… There weren’t many magisters. As if they’d been chosen for something. Danarius’ face was priceless, but the elf managed to hold back a chuckle. It was unhealthy. All he did was stood quietly, eyes on the floor, doing what he was supposed to do - watch over his master as the bloody bodyguard he was. Why the magister needed a warrior by his side in such a meeting, he’d never know.

And then the Archon stopped talking, his voice dying on his throat all of sudden. For some moments, there was nothing but silence and the tension in the air was almost touchable, but it didn’t last too long. A new voice came, this time from a bard standing at the door, with a scroll in his hands.

"As a guest from the Black Divine, I now present you Lady Inquisitor Marian Trevelyan, eldest daughter of Bann Trevelyan, leader of the Inquisition, Grand Duchess of Verchiel, First Enchanter of Skyhold, conqueror of the Fallen Templars, advisor of Empress Celene of the Orlesian Empire, blessed champion of Andraste herself."

Fenris' eyes couldn't stare at nothing else in the room as she entered the Chantry. Her mere presence was almost… overwhelming. It wasn’t because of all those titles that should mean something to some people, no. It was something else, something he couldn’t even think about trying to glimpse. She walked slowly, peacefully, head lifted up as a message for the magisters staring at her in shock.

She was above them all and she _wanted_ them to know.

When she stopped near the stairs that led to the Black Divine and the Archon, he finally could look away. His eyes found Danarius’ face, and his expression… It was of pure horror. As if something there was really wrong and he couldn’t run away from whatever was coming. For some reason, Fenris felt glad for being there to watch that. He’d never forget that face, for sure.

“Most Holy, you honor me with your divine presence. I’m most grateful for being allowed to assist with such a… terrible burden you may have.”

Her voice was soft and mild, her manners had a delicacy no one would ever find in Tevinter. When she turned to face them, the elf finally could see her face, and he wished he hadn’t. Her beauty wasn’t like anything he had seen before, green eyes shining as pure emeralds, her white hair (just like his, he obviously noticed) braided perfectly, resting on her shoulder. Her dress wasn’t fancy, but the way she moved, it made her look like a queen.

She was nothing but a woman, a mage like all the others in that place. In that moment, though, she stood powerful as a real goddess.

“You may know why I’m here.” Her words made Danarius flinch in his chair, and Fenris noticed it. He wasn’t wrong then. Something was wrong. “I’m here as a request from your Divine and your Archon. Like me, they know we have a common enemy that we may defeat, but we cannot do it if we stand separated for traditions. However, it saddens my heart to know there were… rumors, _ideas_ among you.”

This time, Danarius’ lack of comfort was more than obvious. The magister almost stood up, his expression of horror being replaced with rage. Fenris moved slightly away, slowly enough not to make his master notice it. The elf wasn’t the only one that noticed it. It lasted for a mere second, but he swore the Inquisitor stared right at the magister, and something in her eyes made him feel grateful she wasn’t looking at him.

“There’s a reason you’ve been brought here today. You spread poisoned words when we should unite. You plan _behind_ the back of your own Divine.” She pointed at the old man for a mere moment. “You torture innocents, you burn cities and now you want to declare war against the Inquisiton!”

Loud gasps could be heard in the Chantry, magisters trying to stand and leave but they had no time. Inquisition guards had entered without notice and barred the door, faces sturdy as stones. They wouldn’t move, no matter the danger. Fenris quickly jumped back as Danarius stood as well, but in his face  there were no intentions of running.

“You can prove **nothing** , woman!”

Everyone stared at the magister, not sure if he had gone mad or was just brave. Fenris really believed in the first option. He had seen how Danarius had gone paranoid and strange day after day, but to face the Inquisitor like that… He was completely mad, far beyond help.

“And even if you could, this is Tevinter and you have no power here!”

“You’ve mistaken me for a fool for too long, Danarius.” The woman smiled gently, but Fenris could see the danger behind her eyes. She was a person only the gods could face and defy, and he doubt they’d walk from that victorious. “No more. In the name of the Chantry of Ferelden, Orlais and Tevinter, in the name of the Empress Celene, King Alistair and Archon Radonis, you and the magisters here gathered are now prisioners of the Inquisition. You’ll be taken to Skyhold to be jugded by your acts and crimes.”

And in that moment, everyone froze in place. No one seemed to really believe what she had said. Just when the guards moved, they finally understood. Fenris watched, a mix of something like awe and shock bubbling in his chest as the men took the magisters, one by one, kicking and screaming plagues and curses. With magic denied for some kind of more powerful force, they could do nothing more than that. It was almost… _wonderful_. He had no idea what would happen now, but in that moment, the picture was perfect.

“As for the slaves.” The elf felt a weird thing on his throat, eyes slowly getting fixed on the woman’s face again, but something was… different. She wasn’t the Inquisitor, the mage, the goddess. Looking at them, the slaves staring at her in fear, her eyes were kind. “I understand Tevinter has different rules about your condition. However, we have no place for slaves away from here.” A deep silence fell again, and a smile appeared on her lips. A kind of smile a mother would give her child. “I welcome you as _free_  elves of the Inquisition. A ship is waiting for you.”

The murmurs bubbled quietly, quickly. Free? How could they be free if she was another mage, no better than the people she had simply caged away? Fenris stepped away, his green eyes looking around as if looking for Danarius, but his “master” was nowhere to be found. Had he been taken away just like the others? He had paid no attention to whatever was happening around before. There were just the slaves, the Black Divine, the Archon and… _her_. She had left the staircase, walking at the Archon’s side, talking something about “treating the slaves well”, and he couldn’t help but following them slowly.

“I understand your worry, my dear Lady. But you also must have in mind, our rules…”

“I didn’t know your rules allowed _barbarities_. Half the magisters in this room today, maybe all of them, had tortured their slaves for years. They’re not objects to be used and abused!”

“But they also had lost their minds, planning a rebellion, talking about wars. I can give you names of great houses that treat their slaves as members of family. You don’t need to worry. We have a deal, and I’ll keep my word. I hope you’ll do the same once you leave.”

“Do you take me for a liar, Radonis?”

“I take you for a leader. We must do what’s best for our people, if it means sacrificing some… things.”

“Some things aren’t worth sacrificing, whatever’s the price.” She sighed and smiled. “But you know I’ll be always grateful for your help today.”

“You have powerful friends in powerful places. Never forget it, lady Inquisitor. Maker bless you with a safe trip.”

The Archon kissed the palm of her hand and left, but the woman didn’t move. She was waiting for something, her eyes looking around the place slowly. Fenris stood still, confused. He couldn’t understand why a mage would free the slaves, why she’d take them to somewhere else… The captain of the guard came back, called for the now “free” slaves and they seemed to wake up from a dream, and they followed the man happily, just like stupid rams ready to be slaughtered.

“Not joining your friends?”

The sudden voice by his side made the elf turn so quickly he almost fell. The Inquisitor was too close and he didn’t even noticed her approaching. Now they were close, he could see how small and fragile she was, the freckles over her nose, and how her skin was pale and fair. There were small scars down her neck, and her lips had been painted in a soft red. She was way more beautiful than he had expected, but she was still everything he had hated for all his life.

“I have no friends.” His voice was harsh, and for a second he regreted it. Maybe Danarius had some influence on him, his madness crawling under his lyrium marks… but she just smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Fenris.”

“Fenris. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held her hand out for some moments and giggled when he didn’t move. “It’s called handshake.”

“I know what’s called.”

“Is this a Tevinter sport?” His confused look made her smile more, hands now resting on her hips. It was like she had shaken off the image of a perfect goddess to look more human. It was working, and he could barely remember why everyone seemed to be so scared of her. “You’re always brooding. It must be a sport!”

“I’m not… _brooding_.”

“Sure. Well, you look like a strong man. Do you know how to fight?” He nodded softly, not really sure where that conversation would take him. “Wonderful. There’s a place for you in my army, if you want to come with us.”

Oh, now that was unexpected. He had heard her words, he knew what she meant but… it seemed like a dream. Danarius would never allow his slaves to be free, but the magister wasn’t there anymore, and he’d never come back. It meant he was safe, free at last. For a moment the elf stared at the floor. Freedom. He always wanted to taste it, and now someone was offering it to him. A mage, just like the man that had taken his life, his memories. How could he trust her, her words?

“I’m not a soldier. I am… I was Danarius’ bodyguard.”

“Perfect! Maker knows how I need someone to stop me from killing myself during this trip.”

Fenris hesitated. He wanted to trust her, he wanted to go away and never look back, but the anger inside was still burning. The small taste of freedom had made him feel different. He could run away if he wanted, but to where? He had nothing. Not even Danarius anymore. And that woman… She was being gentle, kind but what about that woman he had seen dealing with the magisters?

“Fine. Let’s have a deal, then.” What is this creature? A mind-reader? “You come work for me. I’ll pay you, you’ll have clean clothes, food and a warm bed and all you have to do is keep me safe. I’ll even kick any son-of-a-bitch’s ass if they try to take you. What do you think?”

“You’re a mage.”

“And you’re an elf.” A smirk appeared on her lips. “Any other obvious thought you want to share?”

Well, _maybe_ he can learn how to like this woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone has got a lot of titles during the way, only to free Fenris! The Inquisitor is working hard. I hope you're enjoying this, and thank you for taking your time to read. It means a lot to me.


	3. Sorrow

A deep sigh escaped her as a discussion started again. It had been almost a whole month since their ship had gotten stuck somewhere forgotten near Orlais, and no matter how hard she tried, Fenris and Dorian simply couldn’t spend two minutes trying to get along during their way back. The elf had grown angry and rebel toward any mage they had encountered in their way, and Dorian being Tevinter only helped to make him more agressive near the man.

“Gentlemen, please. Stop.”

“I suggest you to tame your new pet, Inquisitor. He may bite. I thought they’re teaching the slaves good manners.”

“Dorian, you’re not helping.” Marian sighed once more, hand brushing her face. “He’s been mistreated by Tevinter mages his whole life. You really wanna provoke him right now? Give him some space.”

The mage mumbled some curse and entered his tent, leaving her alone with Fenris. His head was low, hands resting on his knees but she knew something was bothering him. It didn’t take her too long to find out the elf was surprisingly easy to read. He hid nothing, or maybe he didn’t know how to. Everything seemed new to him, and he was as lost as Cole in his first days as more human. Cole, at least, was less hurt and less propense in trying to kill his friends.

“Fenris?”

He didn’t move nor look at her, and for the first time in days she allowed herself to touch his arm gently, in a place covered by clothing. She had learned in a painful way he didn’t enjoy being touched, not on his marks at least. Her neck was still sore, but she didn’t blame Fenris. At least the touch worked, and he finally looked up at her, blinking sometimes as if to be sure she was still talking to him. Her hand remained at his arm, and gladly he seemed not to notice it there.

“I’m sorry for Dorian. He doesn’t mean what he says.”

“No, it’s not him.” He sighed, and his eyes met the dark spot on her neck for a second before he looked away, regret and anger as clear as day in his face. “Danarius would’ve get me locked for days because of what I did.”

“Are you still thinking about that? Fenris dear, it was just an accident. I’m the one to blame.”

“You’re not. You kept your word, I’m not a slave anymore but…”

“It’s hard to let go. Believe me, I know.” Her hand slowly traveled to his face, resting on his cheek for some seconds before pulling away. “I’m glad you decided to come along. You’re… important to me.”

“Why?”

“Someone I thought I knew made a terrible thing, but it’s a long story. A story I’m willing to tell you if we reach Skyhold before we get too old to move.” She smiled gently, but he didn’t seem convinced at all. “If Dorian starts bothering you, just talk back. He’ll stop in no time.”

“Thank you. I’ll… keep your advice. And I’m sorry for your neck.”

“Don’t be. May I… ask you something?” After a second of hesitation, he nodded. “Do they hurt all the time?”

Fenris finally lifted his head, looking more like a real warrior and giving her a better vision of his face. He was beautiful in his own way, and she had noticed they weren’t so different. White hair, green eyes… his skin was far more dusky than hers, of course, but it didn’t matter. When he talked, his voice was firmer than before, heavier and more determined than the previous weeks. It was taking a long time, indeed, but he was learning. It was good.

“Not too often anymore. Danarius knew how they hurt, how to hurt me. I couldn’t talk back, or it’d just get worse.” Her heart sank a bit at his words. “Now things are _different_. When you touched me, it _felt_ different. You had no intentions in hurting me, and yet I turned against you. Somehow I wanted to.”

“Oh, this is really reassuring, coming from my bodyguard.”

And then Fenris simply laughed, his shoulders relaxed, his face almost bright and younger. She hadn’t heard him laughing before since they had left Tevinter, nor had seen him smiling but there he was, shaking his head slowly, completely comfortable by her side as if they were old friends. It was hard to deal with Fenris sometimes, indeed, but she wouldn’t give up. Not like Hawke, not like anyone else. There was no pointing in saving the world if she couldn’t reach the ones living in there.

“You’re a strange woman, Inquisitor.”

“People say so. I’m glad you’re here, Fenris.”

“You need someone protecting you from the terrible spiders.” He laughed once more when she frowned. “You’re not afraid of facing demons and what’s-his-name but you tremble when dealing with spiders. Unbelievable.”

“Giant spiders, if you must. Thousands of them.”

“If you say so.” The elf allowed a last bubble of laugh escape his lips before standing up. “Time to take my turn. Inquisitor.”

She bowed her head softly in response, eyes locked on the small fire, flames dancing slowly as they started to die and she shivered, arms wrapped around herself. The nights in the cold mountains always came too soon, bringing monsters and Maker-knows-what. Dorian was right, surely they’d get killed during their way back to Skyhold but right now, it didn’t matter. She had been able to fix a horrible mess from Hawke, and if she was lucky enough, Fenris wouldn’t be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm deeply sorry for the short chapter, but I promise the next one will be longer! I hope you guys are enjoying it, and thank you for reading. <3


	4. Trust

“Can I ask you something?”

Trevelyan stopped walking as his voice reached her and looked back at him, a glimpse of confusion shining on her eyes. Fenris has been quiet during some days, and perhaps she had taken that as a signal he was angry at her when he truly wasn’t. He had noticed she liked to talk, to engage in a conversation whenever she could. The mage following her seemed to love his own voice and they’d spend hours talking about anything at all. Fenris would avoid all the chitchat whenever he could, and she hadn’t pushed him any further when he simply didn’t talk to them.

She was different. The woman was a mage, he knew it, but something about her was completely different from the other mages he had met. She really cared, and that was a foreign feeling towards him. She felt the need to make him sure they were doing things he wanted to do too, not because he was forced to. He spoke his mind and she accepted his thoughts. He and Dorian fought a thousand times and she allowed that (as long as it didn’t end up with them on the other’s neck). She was the most powerful woman in Thedas, and yet she looked at him as an _equal_.

It helped, somehow. Those little acts were healing the poison of being enslaved by Danarius for so long and he was grateful.

“Of course, Fenris.”

“The mark. Does it hurt?” If she was curious about his marks, he could be curious about the thing on her hand too. A little, annoying voice in his head tried to remind him she’d simply tell him to forget that because it was none of his business. Instead she just looked confused for some moments, as if trying to find a good answer.

“Well, not really. I mean, it’s not like your marks. It won’t hurt if you touch it, but… It burns when we’re near rifts. Like I’m being pushed into the Fade.” There was more she wanted to tell, he could feel it on her voice but she simply shrugged it off. “I’ve suffered worse. A little burn isn’t enough to kill me.”

“The _Fade_ itself isn’t enough to kill you, Marian dear.”

The mages laughed. They were really close, Fenris had noticed too. Always touching, talking, spending hours together. It made him wonder how close they really were. Fenris had never seen a kiss, a hug, an intimacy act but sometimes they acted like there were more between them he couldn’t see. Perhaps it was just something he wasn’t allowed to know of. It didn’t matter, in fact. The Fade, thought, had interested him.

“The Fade?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you this story yet? It’s the one I almost got Dorian killed a couple of times. We’ve been there, Fenris. Standing in the Fade, really there. Not in a dream, but like the old magisters had done.”

“And how… did you do it?” The elf frowned slightly, glad they started walking again so The Inquisitor couldn’t see his face. He was grateful for her help, but it didn’t mean he trusted her completely yet. Hard habits were so hard to let go all of sudden.

“I have no idea.” And her sincere answer made him regret a bit what he was thinking about her. “I mean... We were trapped in Adamant, with this huge dragon trying to kill us and when the bridge fell, I think the Anchor kinda of react to the danger. We’d be dead if it hadn’t pull us to the Fade. We landed in a terror demon territory and it was… really unpleasant, but we got out and I got some of my memories back.”

“Your memories?”

“About what happened at the Temple of the Sacred Ashes. I couldn’t remember what had happened, why I was the only survivor. People kept saying it was Andraste that chose me, shielded me from the danger and took me out of the rift but… it wasn’t true.” He could feel the disappointment in her voice. “It just happened I was there by accident. I interrupted Corypheus’ ritual and he dropped the Anchor and… when I grabbed it, it simply entered my body and…”

“Everything exploded.” Dorian completed when he noticed Marian wasn’t going to say that. “Dear, do you really have the urge to blame yourself all the time? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Feel like it is. If I haven’t touched that…”

“You’d be dead, like the whole word.”

The discussion died at that point and Fenris decided it was time to stay quiet again. He hadn’t mean to go further into her personal drama, but it was obvious she had a lot of things messing with her mind. Things that she didn’t dare to talk about, not even near Dorian. Somehow, it was hard to believe the woman he had first seen in Tevinter was the same one he was following. Right now, she looked like any other person, her face hiding a spot of worry and fear, and he wondered if he’d ever see the other, the image of a goddess, again.

The answer came a few hours later. Since they had been forced to leave the ship and continue their trip by foot, no kind of danger entered their way. Sometimes they found a cave or two with nothing but spiders and deepstalkers, but after that, nothing. For a long week everything was calm, boring even. Fenris hadn’t seen the Inquisitor fighting, at least not with those “giant” spiders, but she carried a staff just like the other mage. And then, out of nowhere, the elf noticed the mark on her hand shining and she hissed in pain.

“Fucking torn Veil. Why do we have to go to Val Royeaux? Halamshiral is a week closer than that damned city!”

“Val Royeaux or a week stuck into endless parties with the Empress, remember?” Dorian’s voice was almost gentle. “And I have the feeling they will not approve of our new companion.”

“The Blight take them all, I’m tired of this. Let’s move.”

Somehow she had shaken the fatigue away, her face showing a determination he had seen only on the Chantry, and for the first time since that had begun, she took the staff, ready to fight. Confusion showered his face and she noticed it, smiling at him gently but said nothing, moving quickly through the trees. He followed her closely, not sure of what was happening but soon all his silent questions had been answered.

A demon, three times bigger than him, showed out of nowhere, its scream echoing through all the forest. A pride demon, he supposed. It had been so long since he had seen one of those abominations Fenris had completely forgotten how big and horrid they were. But before he could reach his sword, the thing spotted him and he had no time to move away from its path. A giant, stone-like hand hit him right in the stomach and he felt himself being thrown against a tree, a sharp pain growing on his side and back.

“Fenris!”

The Inquisitor’s voice made him open his eyes only to look around for her, and a surprised noise escaped his lips. Her movements were gracious and soft as she fought, but he could almost feel the rage dropping from the spells, keeping the demons away from her. Dorian wasn’t less skilled, dealing with a couple of despair demons alone, but Fenris hadn’t expected her to be so… strong as people claimed. In his mind those were nothing but stories, rumors filled wih nonsense only to adore another mage. Now, he was facing the truth.

She held the same image of the goddess he had met in Tevinter, yet she wasn’t acting like a lady as the moment required. The feelings she hid before were now there for everyone to see. In the battlefield she was furious, wild, unstoppable just like her magic. If he believed in the old gods, he could say she was one of them. After a second or two, Fenris found his strengh again and stood up, the sword already in hands, charging against the demon lurking behind her.

And there he was, fighting for a mage again. This time, though, it felt like the right thing to do.

**

“Maker’s breath, Fenris!” The elf hissed angrily when she tried to approach again, decided not to have any magic corrupting him. She meant no harm, he knew it but he simply couldn’t allow that. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Oh.” That hurt her, it was clear. Quickly she retreated her hands, the healing glow fading away as she took a step back. “Alright.”

As the Inquisitor left him, Fenris sighed softly, not sure if he should regret that and apologize later or let it go and forget about that. He wasn’t a slave anymore, she wouldn’t punish him or lock him in a dark, little space because he had talked back but his words and denials hurt her. She was trying really hard to make him trust her, and he wanted to. It was just… difficult to forget. He stood up slowly, the broken ribs aching in response, and followed Marian into her tent.

“I’m sorry.” That was all that he could say in that moment. She didn’t look at him as she used to do when they were talking, eyes focused on her own hands. “I know you want to help, and I’m most grateful for that. I just…”

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“I lied to you. When you asked about the Anchor, I…” Marian sighed, and he decided to approach more, allowing himself to sit next to her. “I’m dying, Fenris.”

A frown marked his face, his hands grabbing hers before they could even notice it. For some moments he simply looked for something, anything in there that was hurting her so badly, but there was nothing. Her hands were soft, warm. The green, sick light coming from the mark had vanished, but her voice… It was shaking in fear. She was scared.

“Everytime I use the Anchor, everytime I close a rift, I can feel it pulling me more and more into the Fade and… I’m not sure I’ll make it if we fight Corypheus. I’m not sure if I want to.”

“Do you want to… die?” She shook her head quickly just like a child. “So keep doing what you do. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. You won’t die, Inquisitor. You have lots of things to do. Now, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Fenris smiled once more, bringing her hands to his hurt side, ignoring the pain kicking in. “Can you heal it for me?”

The sweet, sincere smile that appeared on her lips seemed to light his day for a whole week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no idea what I'm doing anymore. Thank you for taking your time to read and leave kudos! It means a lot, guys! ♥


	5. Skyhold

Skyhold seemed a hundred times more crowded than she remembered, and somehow it was a relief to see the free elves from Tevinter were there as well.  She could see how happy they were, running here and there to help soldiers or the merchants, offering services to some nobles or simply resting on benches. Josephine should’ve arranged everything to them, and Marian forced herself to remember to thank the ambassador later. Right now, the fatigue from the long trip had settled on her body completely and all she wanted was a long, warm bath and sleep for maybe a whole week.

“So this is Skyhold.”

Fenris’ voice came all of sudden as usual, but this time it was filled with wary and doubt. For a long time he just stared at his former companions, maybe wondering if they were still serving as slaves. She smiled gently and gave him a soft bump on the ribs with her elbow, gaining his attention at the very moment.

“It’s worth the troubles, isn’t it?”

“I thought you didn’t keep slaves here.”

“I see none around.” Her firm voice made the doubts on his face disappear almost completely, and she smiled more. “Do you really think I’m a bloody slaver?”

“No, I… I didn’t mean that. But this place is so… noisy, just like Minrathous. It’s difficult to… not remember.” The elf sighed deeply, shaking his head. “I apologize.”

“That’s alright, Fenris. I’m sorry this is hard for you.”

“Inquisitor!”

And Marian had thought no one would even remember she was there. She gave Fenris a sorry smile before turning to engage in a boring conversation about the elves and some nobles with Josephine, moving through the crowd before she could even notice what she was doing. It had turned into a bad habit, she supposed, but then the ambassador’s voice brought her back into the world. There were still a lot of things to do, and little time to spare.

Fenris simply watched as the Inquisitor walked away, not sure if he was allowed to follow her once they were there, for now she wasn’t just a simple mage being watched but the damned powerful Inquisitor. Skyhold was such a huge place, as big and noisy as Minrathous and it was more than uncomfortable. He stood still for some moments, looking around to try to find some familiar faces but everyone seemed too busy to pay attention to him. Skyhold didn’t have _slaves_. The elves were there, of course, but he could see how happy and light their expressions were. Working as free elves, doing what they wanted because they wanted to. Somehow, it lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. The whole trip he wondered if he was walking right into a trap, and it didn’t matter how many times he tried to trust her, it wasn’t enough. Here, it felt different.

“You, elf!” He turned quickly as he noticed he was the one being called, eyes narrowed as a tall woman approached. Full armor, short black hair. She was more than a simple soldier, it was clear. She carried a deep Orlesian accent, and her face showed nothing but disapproval. “Fenrir, right?”

“Fenris.”

“That’s it. Come with me.”

“Why?” And for a moment Fenris thought she’d kick him for being so insolent, but a disgusted noise was all that escaped her.

“Because I’m telling you to.”

“Be gentle, Cassandra.” A voice coming from behind, so soft and quiet, made the elf move away quickly, surprised and ready to strike whatever it was, but it was no danger at all. It was just a boy, a big hat hiding good part of his pale face. “Broken, bending, need to follow but scared to.”

“Not now, Cole. I have thousand things to do and--”

“I show him around, you work. Then you’ll read to me later, right? You promised you’d read to me.”

Cassandra’s lips turned into a thin line before she gave up and moved away, and Cole smiled, turning softly in his place only to face Fenris. The elf wasn’t sure of what that thing was, but it looked like a young man, pale blue eyes staring at him like trying to see his own soul. It was uncomfortable, but there was no way to escape that. Cole - or whatever his name was - seemed to notice it, and his eyes finally left his face.

“I’m sorry. You’re too loud.”

“Excuse me?”

“You make it too loud. Deep hurts, taste like poison but you keep swallowing it. Need to run, need to hide but nowhere to. Master will follow me, will find me. You don’t need to run anymore. She’ll keep you safe.”

Of course he was talking about the Inquisitor, but the way that creature invaded his mind was… sickening. He tried to move away, not really sure what to do, mind too dizzy to understand what he had just heard.

“I-I’m sorry!” Cole’s voice sounded almost hurt, and Fenris forced himself to look at the creature again. “Cassandra says I need to ask people before I help, because they remember me now. I didn’t need to ask before, so I keep forgetting and making things wrong.”

“What are you? A demon?”

Well, it’d be no surprise if there were demons lurking around. He had spotted lots of mages walking around, studying together, and the Inquisitor herself was one. The First Enchanter. Maybe she liked to work with demons, maybe they gave her all that power... But that creature in front of him was so weak and fragile he doubted it could be a real demon, and he seemed really shocked and angry for being called that.

“I’m no demon! I help people, I don’t hurt them! I’m Cole, I’m just me.” The sincerity in his voice made Fenris regret what he was thinking. The boy was trying to help, he could see that, but it was just hard to trust something so… invasive. “I’m sorry… I want to help, but I keep doing it wrong.”

“Just… stay out of my mind.”

“Yes, yes. Come, I’ll show you around. You’ll like it here, it’s so big and everyone works so hard to make feel like home!”

And he had no choice but follow the boy-creature-whatever through Skyhold. Perhaps things couldn’t get more confusing and maybe, just maybe he could enjoy being there.

**

The night was high when she finally left the War Room, completetly ehxausted but at least everything was calm, peaceful. There were no signs of Corypheus, and even her sudden move against some magisters of Tevinter made the Inquisiton grow greater among some noble circles of Orlais and Ferelden. They had enough influence to go anywhere they wanted now, but all she desired was reach her quarters and not leave for days, if that was possible.

“Do you ever sleep?”

A shiver ran down her spine and Marian turned, a soft smile appearing on her lips as she recognized Fenris. Under the moonlight, he looked beautifuller than ever and it made her heart bump awkwardly against her chest. Her cheeks burned at the silly thought and she was glad the light wasn’t enough for him to see such an awful scene. As she didn’t reply, the elf approached slowly, green eyes shining in the dark, making her even more uncomfortable, making it even hard to pretend everything was fine.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Fenris? It’s… late.”

“I’m your bodyguard.”

“I know, but you don’t need to watch over me all the time, at least not here. I mean, there’s no assassins on the War Room and I don’t think…”

“I want to.”

Something in his quiet voice made her shiver once more, finally noticing how close he was and it didn’t matter if she tried to move away, he kept following until her back was pressed against the wall, his arms blocking the way out by her sides. He had trapped her gently, slowly and she hadn’t even noticed it. She felt her cheeks burning more with his body so close to her, his warm breath against her face. He was taller than her, stronger. There were no way she’d escape that if he didn’t want her to.

It had been three weeks since they arrived Skyhold, and she pretended not to see how close he was becoming, how he trusted her more and more, how they spent hours together in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. She had thought he was just doing that because that was his job, being too close because he was her bodyguard and he should do that but now… she was completely lost by his reactions.

“At first I’ve thought you and that mage were… something more.” The subject came so abruptly she didn’t have time to respond, eyes widened in shock and something she couldn’t understand. “You’re so close. It made me… jealous of his position. Then I found out of his preferences and… I decided I wasn’t _this_ jealous.”

A nervous chuckle escaped Marian before she could hold it back, eyes trying to look at everything but Fenris. With no armor, his body was so warm against hers, his lips so close she just needed to move a bit if she wanted… but she didn’t move. His hand touched her cheek, held her chin only to force her to look at him again.

“I was scared. When you arrived at Minrathous, I thought you were just like them. No, you… scared me to death. You shook the world before me, you changed everything I’ve ever known and yet, you… showed to be much more than I had expected.”

Fenris smiled, and she had no time to think about anything else. His lips touched hers, his arms pulled her close against his chest. The kiss was deep, furious just like the elf, and Marian allowed herself to get lost in his touches. She could feel his marks reacting to her touches, burning his skin but he didn’t let her escape when she tried, playing with her tongue, making her moan into his mouth. When he finally let go of her, she was breathless, face burning red.

“Festis bei umo canavarum.” He whispered, making her shiver under his hands. That was too much for a single night. “I’m sorry, it was… unexpected.”

“No, it was great. I’m just… scared. I don’t want to hurt you, Fenris. I can’t.” She sighed deeply, pulling him away enough to hold his hands. “I promised I’d tell you about your past, and I’ve been delaying this conversation since we arrived.”

“I don’t want to know. What’s done is done. I’m not the person I once was before this, before Danarius.” He looked down at the lyrium marks for some moments, but there was a wild certainty in his eyes when he stared at her. “Knowing won’t make me feel any better. That past is nothing but shadows for me.”

Marian found herself lost once more. They stood there in silence for a long moment, his forehead resting against hers, noses touching gently, eyes closed, simply enjoying each other as usual. She wanted to believe his words, she wanted to be sure she was doing the right thing.

“I have a gift for you.” His eyes opened slowly, a curious hint behind them. “Danarius’ judgment is tomorrow.”

And she thought he’d kiss her again. She wouldn’t mind that _at all_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translate:
> 
> • Festis bei umo canavarum: "You will be the death of me."
> 
> \---
> 
> I don't know what I'm planning, but things are getting softer than I thought. Thank you for your kudos and comments, dearies! It means a lot to me! ♥


	6. Danarius

Fenris couldn’t say exactly what was that feeling bumping on his chest as the guards brought Danarius down the corridor, but it was nothing like before. Months of freedom and Marian’s gentle help had done something to him. For a moment the elf simply stared at his former master, and he looked so pathetic and weak that it was hard to remember the man that had tortured him for so long. Trevelyan said nothing as she crossed the main hall to sit down on the throne, her eyes never leaving the magister’s face and he knew she wasn’t just his Marian. She was the Inquisitor again, and somehow it scared him more than he’d ever admit. He barely paid attention to Josephine’s voice, but he noticed Marian’s expression changing at every crime the ambassador listed, at every curse Danarius spilled.

“Such horrid crimes deserve more than a punishment as simple as death, Danarius. However, it’s not for me to decide today.” When she looked up at Fenris, the elf felt himself shivering softly by her raged, intense stare. “You carry his shame in your skin. What do you desire to do?”

For a long moment, he felt as everyone in the hall was staring at him and it took him longer than he had expected to finally understand what she had said. Danarius’ life was his to do as he pleased, and Fenris felt a soft, cruel smile appear on his lips as he stared at the former magister.

“He deserves nothing but death. Allow me to end his life at once.”

“So shall it be.” And with a simple wave of hand they were dismissed.

Fenris followed the guards closely, eyes never leaving Danarius’ as if the man could escape but it seemed the magister had already given up, miserable and more pathetic than before, if that was possible. When they finally arrived at the execution point, a small crowd was already there, curious, in need of a bloody show. Some even cheered at the warrior, shameless, relieved for having another disgusting monster killed. For a long moment the elf only stared down at the former magister, delighted, enjoying his low head and trembling shoulders. Slowly he took the greatsword a soldier was offering him, and with a single, swift movement he watched as Danarius’ head rolled away.

And just in that moment, he was finally free. It felt bitter, just like some poison he couldn’t stop swallowing, but it made him feel better. Alive.

Adrenaline was still running through his marks as he made the way back to the castle, but then he turned and entered the tavern for no reason at all. He just needed to relieve all those horrid feelings in his chest and that place seemed to be good enough for that. The tavern was crowded and the smell of ale and wine was enough to make him feel sick, yet he sat down on an empty table in the back, and if he was lucky enough no one would notice him there.

“Lost, loose, not leashed but still burns." Cole's soft voice startled him and he moved only to stare at the boy-spirit, not really in the mood for such a conversation in that moment. "Tastes like poison, keeping the old hurts there. The chains are broken, but are you truly free?"

"Go bother Cassandra or something and leave me alone already."

"You don't want to be alone. You hurt when you’re alone."

"Enough, Cole." A sigh almost escaped Fenris when the Seeker approached them, an unamused expression on her face and he was sure he was holding the same thoughts about that place. With a casual disgusted noise, she sat down by Cole’s side, not pleased at all.

“I want to help.”

“Some things can’t be helped. Let it be.” The Seeker shook her head slowly before looking up at Fenris, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I was wrong about you, Fenris. I was afraid you’d put the Inquisitor in danger, taken by your… unfortunated past. However, you proved yourself today. Only a few wouldn’t tremble when facing their persecutors, and that’s something I can’t ignore.”

Cassandra’s sincerity was something to be appreciated, indeed. She spoke her mind whenever it was necessary and Fenris enjoyed that. Even if they weren’t friends or closed acquaintances, he respected her just as he respected Marian. A soft nod was enough to show her how grateful he was for her mutual respect.

“Soft and quiet, small but strong. She wants to give up sometimes but you make things bright and right again. She feels safe when you hold her. She wishes you’d hold her more.”

The spirit didn’t need to say a name, and even so a warm feeling rose on his chest at the mention of her, her thoughts and desires. Cassandra rolled her eyes in disapproval, but the elf noticed when she tugged her hands under Cole’s gently. Their relationship or whatever it was never happened outside the barracks or the tavern, but he could see the happiness on the Seeker’s eyes, the way she smiled at the rogue when they were together.

For a moment, he wondered if he could make Marian smile at him in that way too.

**

“I appreciated your… gift.”

Marian barely lifted her head as Fenris’ voice came suddenly, trying not to get so distracted from the letter she was trying to write back to Tevinter. Danarius seemed to have an important place in the Magisterium, and his execution, even if blessed by the Archon and the Black Divine, could be seen by an insult by the Imperium. She doubted Tevinter would try something, but the Inquisition didn’t need enemies in that moment. A simple letter seemed to be insufficient, yet Josephine insisted in that horrid plan and there she was, still struggling.

Fenris crossed the room to sit on her bed as he always did when they were together, his green eyes staring at her so sorely it was almost uncomfortable. He needed to talk, and she needed some free time to clean her mind. She finally looked up at him, smiling gently, and he relaxed a bit under her gaze. A dangerous wolf in the battlefield, but there he was just a little puppy. It was completely adorable.

“I thought killing Danarius would make me feel… relieved. He’s dead, I’m finally free but I don’t know what to do with this freedom now.”

“No one really does.”

His voice died and Marian barely noticed when she stood up and crossed the room only to sit by his side, holding his hands, allowing him to play with her fingers as he seemed to like so much. It was weird how such a grumpy elf could be so gentle, so passionate. No one else would ever see that side of him, and it made her strangely happy. A gentle squeeze on his hand was enough to make Fenris look at her again, and the Inquisitor smiled warmly.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you, Marian.”

He just purred her name against her cheek and a shiver ran down her body as he held her tightly against his body, making her uncomfortable and relaxed at the same time. Fenris smiled, fingers running through her hair, undoing her braid, whispering things that made her blush more than Cassandra when reading Swords & Shields for Cole. She hadn’t been with someone else for too long. She didn’t complain when he pushed her against the mattress, his lips touching the scars on her neck, making her shiver and moan softly.

“You’re _beautiful_.”

And he still wore too much clothes, she had thought, but his lips over hers made her forget whatever she was trying to think in that moment. Her hands found the end of his shirt, pulled it out quickly only to appreciate the delicate, beautiful marks in his chest. She knew how much he had suffered, how the pain almost destroyed him but she couldn’t deny those things had its beauty. For a moment the mage allowed her fingers to travel the lines gently, watching Fenris’ expressions but he seemed… pleased. It hurt, her touch burned him and yet he didn’t move away from her.

“If it hurts…”

“I don’t care about the pain, as long as you’re here.”

“I’ll always be here, Fenris.” Her hands left his chest to rest on his shoulders, pulling him close into another kiss. “I just don’t want to hurt you. Danarius…”

“Is dead. And you’re still dressed.”

Marian squeaked when he took off her tunic all of sudden, a hand cupping her breast, making her moan and squirm under him, heat running through her body as pure fire. She wanted that, she wanted him. Another hand found the damn right spot between her legs and she gasped against his mouth, and oh Maker she loved how daring and harsh Fenris could be, throwing all the caution away, marking her skin. She loved the way he touched her, but that wasn’t just enough. She forced him off of her, his back against the mattress by her side and quickly she was over him, and a soft, amused laugh escaped her as she felt his stiffened cock against her tight, his hands holding her hips so tightly she was sure the marks would be there for the whole week.

It didn’t matter at all. They’d have a long, delicious night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay! Inspiration left me and I have a really busy week.  
> And I really really apologize for the lack of real smut here. It's been ages since I wrote something smutty and I don't want to ruin everything *cries*
> 
> Thank you for taking your time to read! ♥


End file.
